The Wolf has been doing her utmost to be as adorable as she possibly can these days, employing all manner of canine cuteness. Y'know, big sparkling doe eyes, frantic ass wiggling, tender little kisses deposited sweetly on your earlobes.

Jack figures this is a kind of health insurance policy so that if she gets sick again, we won't hesitate to drop another enormous pile of cashola on vetrinary care. He's just a wee bit cynical these days.

Some members of my viewing audience noticed something a little awry about my fearsome racoon the other day. It seems the wee demon coon was suffering a rather serious dental problem which resulted in his blood-tipped little fangs jutting akwardly from his chiny-chin-chin. As soon as this malady was pointed out to us, Jack and I reached deep into our penny jar and rushed the ailing coon to an animal orthodonist who swiftly resolved the chin fang issue. Below, a picture of the astounding results:

Otis, as we later dubbed the little dude, has since been released into the wild where I'm sure he continues marrauding amongst the rest of his ring-tailed brethern, spreading disease and midnight madness where ever he goes.